


Toast

by Deepdarkwaters



Series: Flame Keepers [5]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: BFFs, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14341524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/pseuds/Deepdarkwaters
Summary: "Welcome to the midlife crisis, lover young enough to be your child, dirty old man club. We should make t-shirts."





	Toast

The way Harry always lets himself in and just lingers quietly like a ghost would be incredibly weird behaviour from anybody else, but somehow from him it's the opposite: it's always been comfortable having him around ever since the first day they met at school, and Merlin knows without it ever having to be said in words that Harry feels exactly the same way when he gets home sometimes and finds Merlin already there in his living room with a book and a glass of Harry's best booze. Maybe the secret to forty years of friendship longevity is a fiercely-burning quick little blip of love somewhere near the start of it, like the forging of a sword. Maybe they're just lucky.

"Not to be melodramatic about it," Harry says casually after a while, "but if you don't tell me what's happening off the clock between you and Lancelot I think I might die."

Merlin pauses his typing for a moment and twists around to give Harry an unimpressed look to hide how heavily his heart is suddenly thumping. "I hope you're not trying to start filthy rumours."

"Perish the thought," Harry says mildly, not even having the grace to look ashamed of his tendency to indulge in exactly that. "I saw her leave for the Troma mission dressed up to the nines and you've got a lipstick kiss on your big bald head that looks suspiciously close to the shade she was wearing, that's all. Welcome to the midlife crisis, lover young enough to be your child, dirty old man club. We should make t-shirts."

Merlin suddenly feels the thoroughly unpleasant sensation of a spit-wettened hankie rubbing at the place where Roxy had crept up behind him and kissed him goodbye twenty minutes ago and almost falls out of his wheely chair trying to dodge away. "Oh for Pete's sake, leave off, you're worse than my granny," he snaps, using the cuff of his jumper to wipe his head dry while Harry, looking like he's having the best day of his life, leans his backside against Merlin's desk and waits impatiently to be properly filled in.

Where to start? Merlin has no idea, opening and closing his mouth a few times and every time thinking better of the words before they quite leave him because whatever's happening is still too new and exhilarating and terrifying and marvellous to examine in anything more than the quick little glimpses they've been managing in between Roxy's missions.

He reaches for his desk drawer eventually and takes out two whisky tumblers and his emergency Macallan.

"It's a funny old life, isn't it?" Harry muses, watching him pour, and Merlin's got nothing to add to that except the clink of his glass rim tapping against Harry's and then a long, easy silence.

**Author's Note:**

> THE END.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this series! It's been fun <3


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